


kindling instincts

by kiroiimye



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Kai Nobuyuki is a Good Friend, Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou Friendship, Kuroo Tetsurou is a Good Friend, Kuroo bullies Yaku's short height, Protective Yaku Morisuke, Team Fluff, Team Mom Yaku Morisuke, Team as Family, empahsis on the Team Mom Yaku Morisuke, if you're asking what relationship i'm implying the answer is yes, just a yaku centric fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23814694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiroiimye/pseuds/kiroiimye
Summary: Kuroo scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully. "Showing your true colors again, Demon-senpai?"Yaku grins at the nickname and slugs Kuroo in the shoulder. "Please. I'll always be the scariest one on the team.""Maybe because you're such a parent," Kuroo snorts and Yaku aims a kick for his knee this time.5 times Yaku takes care of his team, plus the 1 time they take care of him.
Relationships: Kai Nobuyuki & Kuroo Tetsurou & Yaku Morisuke, Kai Nobuyuki & Yaku Morisuke, Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou & Yaku Morisuke, Kozume Kenma & Yaku Morisuke, Kuroo Tetsurou & Yaku Morisuke, Shibayama Yuuki & Yaku Morisuke, Yaku Morisuke & Nekoma Volleyball Club, implied relationships - Relationship
Comments: 18
Kudos: 189





	kindling instincts

**Author's Note:**

> the last fic before i age another year! huge thanks to Ruby for betaing <3 i appreciate you BEYOND words!!

(1)

They were supposed to leave for the away practice game at precisely seven that morning. It had been going pretty well too; Yaku had checked in with each of his teammates when they showed up and double-checked that they had all their belongings when they boarded the bus. Call him paranoid, an overprotective third year, Okaa-san (some of the underclassmen had taken to the nickname after Kuroo jokingly dubbed him the ‘team mom’ after practice one night), but Yaku will be damned if his teammates don’t properly take care of themselves before, during, and after practice. 

(It’s an instinct that Yaku’s honed since the end of his first year, when he caught Kuroo practicing in the after-hours with a small, dark-haired boy, whose name he later learned was Kozume Kenma and would be joining them the next year. After the incident, Yaku continued to chastise his teammates to  _ properly  _ take care of themselves and kept the habit up, all through his three years.) 

Yaku’s sure to count his teammates as they board the bus in clumps and watches the gateway of the high school for any stragglers for five minutes, before the bus doors close. 

But when Yaku does a head-count before the bus takes off (because Kuroo’s a lazy-ass captain who had assured him,  _ “Yes,  _ Yaku-okaa-san, we have everyone. Now sit down, you’re giving me a headache”), he finds that there’s precisely one person missing and he forces the doors open. 

“Who’s missing?” Kuroo shouts after him, as Yaku takes off running for the gym.

“It’s Shibayama!” Yaku yells. “He’s probably in the gym bathroom, I’ll get him!” 

Yaku disappears through the double doors, skidding across the sleek gym floors and he throws open the bathroom door, calling, “Oi! Shibayama! Are you in here?” 

“Ahh…Yaku-san?” a small voice croaks from behind the closed door. “Do you have any stomach medicine?” 

Yaku frowns at his bare hands and empty pockets. “Not on me. We’ve got the first-aid bag in the bus though. Are you feeling alright? Can you move?”

There’s a soft whimper that emits through the door and bounces around the empty bathroom. “Y-Yeah...I think so.”

“Alright. I’ll wait for you to get out and I’ll get you some stomach medicine on the bus.” 

“Thank you Yaku-san,” Shibayama murmurs, and Yaku watches the first year carefully creaks open the bathroom door and eases himself to the sink. His bag is falling down his shoulder and Yaku moves to grab the bag from his junior, tugging at it until Shibayama lets go, blinking in surprise.

“Let me carry it for you,” Yaku says softly and the first year stares at him with an expression akin to wonder, as if Yaku’s brought down the whole world and laid it at his fingertips. 

“Okay!”

Shibayama lets Yaku pull the strap of his bag away and hoist it onto his shoulder. Yaku offers a smile to the small first year.

"Wash your hands and let's get going, alright? Team's been worried," he says, just as his phone buzzes in his pocket. 

Shibayama beams at him and Yaku texts a response back as they make their way out of the gym.

_ Rooster Ass: Okaa-san, hurry up, the other kids are getting antsy and Ojii-san doesn't know how long he can keep them entertained with snacks. _

_ Yaku: Don't call me that and I've got Shibayama, on our way. Tell Kai to make them sit down and shut up or else we're all doing suicides after the practice match. _

_ Otou-ass: What are you, captain? _

_ Yaku: I might as well be. _

_ Otou-ass: smh Kai and I have given the chibi too much power. _

_ Yaku: say that to my FACE, I dare you. Also, that's no way to speak to this team's Okaa-san. _

_ Rooster Ass: thought you said not to call you that? _

_ Yaku: ...shut the hell up. _

——

(2)

"Break for lunch!" Kuroo shouts over the noise of the slamming volleyballs. There's a sigh of relief from the team as they straggle over to the benches and Yaku wrinkles his nose at the mess of scattered volleyballs left behind.

"Pick up after yourselves," Yaku calls, and the players make a U-turn to toss the balls into hampers. "Thanks, team!"

There's a resounding "mhm" that echoes through the gym as the team heads back to their bags to retrieve their lunches.

It had been one of those early morning weekend practices that most of the team despises. They had run drills and practice matches since early that morning and Yaku frowns at the heavy sweat and exhaustion on his teammates’ faces. He doesn't need to see his own sweaty face to turn to Kuroo and say, "Give the team a longer lunch, alright?"

Kuroo scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully. "Showing your true colors again, Demon-senpai?"

Yaku grins at the nickname and slugs Kuroo in the shoulder. "Please. I'll always be the scariest one on the team."

"Maybe because you're such a parent," Kuroo snorts and Yaku aims a kick for his knee this time. The other effortlessly dodges and ruffles Yaku's hair idly as he jogs away to where he left his bag with Kenma. "Missed again, Okaa-san! It's cuz you're a little chibi!"

"I'm gonna beat the hell out of you, I swear it," Yaku snaps after Kuroo, who merely snickers and wiggles his fingers. Kenma, next to him, rolls his eyes at his best friend's antics as he sits on the edge of the doorway to eat his lunch. Kuroo settles next to him, his back pressed against the open door, and Kai sits across from Kuroo, already digging into his lunch.

Yaku retrieves his bento box from his bag and moves to sit next to Kai when he hears a loud curse from Yamamoto.

"Oi! Watch the language!" Yaku barks across the gym and Yamamoto flinches, looking up at Yaku and grinning sheepishly.

"Sorry, Yaku-san! I just realized I left my lunch at home and I don't have anyone to bring it over," he says, scratching the back of his neck. 

Yaku feels a frown mar his face and he ambles over to the second year. "Do you have any other food to eat? You've been running and spiking quite a bit today."

Yamamoto shrugs listlessly, his focus on his open rucksack. "Not sure. I'm gonna search my bag for some snacks and if not, I'll head down to the convenience store to get some food—shit!" 

"Are you alright?! Did you stab yourself?" Yaku grabs at the second year's hand, twisting it for any possible injuries.

Yamamoto hurriedly pulls his hand away. "I'm not hurt!" he yelps. "I just realized I left my damn wallet at home."

Yaku stares at Yamamoto and his empty rucksack, before he decisively drops his bento box in front of his teammate. "Here. Take my lunch."

Yamamoto gapes at him and the box in front of him, before shoving it back. "No way, Yaku-san! I can't take this!"

"You can and you will," he responds firmly, pushing the box back into his lap. "You've been doing more exercise than me today and you don't have anything to eat. I'll go buy food at the convenience store, since I have my wallet on me." Yaku smiles at the torn expression on Yamamoto's face and he pats his head. "Don't worry too much. It's just lunch. Put my box on top of my bag when you're done, alright?"

"Thank you, Yaku-san!" Yamamoto drops to his knees before Yaku, almost near tears. "I'll never forget your kindness!"

Yaku snorts at his junior's show of appreciation, but his heart warms at Yamamoto's appreciation. Taketora Yamamoto really is a genuinely kind kid, he thinks to himself with a chuckle. 

"No need to castrate yourself before me," Yaku teases and Yamamoto looks up at him, eyes watering. "I'm gonna head out and get lunch before break ends, so enjoy your meal!"

He heads towards the doorway, where Kuroo, Kenma, and Kai are staring at him in wonder. Kuroo, obviously, breaks the silence first, with his cat-like grin. 

"You really are a team mom, huh?"

"Shut the hell up."

—— 

(3)

Schoolday mornings are always peaceful times for Yaku. Though many of his peers despise the early times, Yaku finds himself enjoying the morning routines. 

He wouldn't say he's one for perfectly organized schedules, nor kept-to-the-minute agendas, but there is something satisfying about going through the early morning motions: making breakfast while he brushes his teeth, changing into his uniform, packing his bag, making lunch, and eating his breakfast. 

Right after, he checks the time (it's always around twenty minutes before the late bell rings), and he slides on his shoes and gets on the short metro ride to school.

The metro is always packed when Yaku gets on, no matter what day of the week it is. There's always businessmen and women, dressed to the nines in suits and pencil skirts, and students like him, dressed in patterned skirts and pants and blazers. 

Yaku surprisingly doesn't mind the crowd; rather, he finds the masses calming as they all turn to white noise while he sits on his phone until his stop. 

When Yaku disembarks his train and hikes out of the station that morning, he's in a particularly great mood: the sky is blue, there are puffy clouds in the air, and he's more at peace than usual. He whistles as he walks the sidewalk to school, enjoying the chatter of people around him and the hustle and bustle of the city. 

He's still whistling as he ambles onto campus and heads down the pathway to the main building, before his eyes catch on a familiar mop of brown hair that disappears around a corner. Yaku’s lips curve down; something is wrong. He can feel it. 

He follows the mop of hair around the corner they disappeared behind and stops as he lays his eyes on three unfamiliar, yet very tall boys surrounding Fukunaga.

Now, by no means is Fukunaga considered short. He's tall at 5’10, but his demeanor is not so intimidating to scare others away. Between the three guys who have him cornered, Fukunaga looks smaller than usual. 

Yaku creeps out from behind the corner, watching the encounter take place. He's still too far away to hear the exchange but as he gets closer, he hears one of the boys spit, "Little piece of shit."

Yaku's vision fills with red. Without a second thought, he launches himself at the accuser, slamming a right hook into his jaw, and the boy stumbles backward with a yell. Yaku glares at the other two, hissing, "Don't you dare talk that way to my junior again."

He grabs Fukunaga by the wrist and drags him away from the furious snarls of the boys and it's not until they're inside the school building and surrounded by chattering students that Yaku says, "Are you alright?"

Yaku's never heard Fukunaga speak more than a few words at a time, so he tries to contain his gape when Fukunaga nods and murmurs softly, "Thanks for standing up for me, Yaku-san. It means a lot."

His heart warms and he clamps a hand down on Fukunaga's shoulder. "Of course. I got your back."

(He later receives a teasing 'overprotective mom' text from Kuroo when he's in the office, getting suspended for assaulting a fellow student, but Yaku really can't care less.)

—— 

(4)

The crack of bones is the first thing Yaku hears. It echoes through the gym, harsh and unforgiving, and everyone turns to the perpetrator in stunned silence.

Yaku's heart almost stops.

Kozume Kenma lies on the gym floor, his lips twisted in pain, and his ankle curled at a strange angle. Lev and Inuoka are the closest to him and they're immediately by Kenma's side, eyes wide and mouths moving a hundred miles per minute. Kenma's face curves into something more uncomfortable, and Yaku starts towards him, instincts riled in his stomach and concern stuck in his throat. 

But he's stopped by a hand—Kai's hand—and the vice-captain shakes his head. 

"Let Kuroo take care of him," Kai murmurs softly, squeezing his shoulder tightly and they watch as their captain kneels by Kenma's side, hands shaking and mouth tripping over words incoherently. 

Kenma seems to translate a message back to Kuroo, and Kuroo gently lifts him up in his arms, ready to carry him out to the infirmary. Kuroo stops by them, his expression flat and twisted in an unnamed emotion, but his gentle whisper to Yaku speaks in a different tone: "Take care of the team."

Yaku nods stiffly (the heavy weight of Kuroo's words settles on Yaku's shoulders like a burden, no matter how temporary), and he calls out to the stunned team, "Get back to practice! Kenma's going to be fine!"

He knows Kenma will—there's no doubt about that. Especially if Kuroo is there to help him heal. But for now, Yaku will lead the team as a makeshift captain with Kai, and he'll take care of them, as he's always done before.

—— 

(5)

Yaku's got a good handling on his teammates’ abilities—he's paid more than enough attention to know that Lev has a higher spike point than most, that Shibayama is more afraid of the ball than the ball is of him at times, that Kenma likes to be physically lazy on the court but his mental state runs more laps than his legs ever will, that Kuroo is practically ambidextrous at this point and has trained himself to use both hands on the court.

So when he watches Kai miss the third spike in a row, he can immediately tell something's off: the vice-captain is not a perfect human but he isn’t that inaccurate either.

Yaku watches Kai more from the sidelines. He hesitates more, his body is slow in response, and his breaths are heavier. It clicks with him two minutes later: Kai's sick. Yaku waves a hand at Coach Nekomata to stop the practice match and the coach complies, watching as Yaku makes his way over to his teammate. Kai’s panting from the missed spike, his face tight and beaded with sweat, and Yaku extends a hand out to him. 

“You’re sick, Kai,” he says softly. “Go home.”

Kai looks at his proffered hand and chuckles softly, before accepting it. “Never miss a thing, do you?”

“Not when my teammates are bullshit at self-care,” Yaku snorts, leading him back to the benches. He snatches the nearest sweat towel off the bench and tosses it to Kai. “Honestly, of all people, I thought you would know best.”

“My bad.” Kai makes a face and waves his hand idly. “I had a test today that I couldn’t miss, so I took some meds and came to class. I figured I’d be alright for practice, but I guess not.” 

“Yeah, no kidding. Talk to Coach and then go home and sleep,” Yaku says, slapping the vice-captain’s back. “I’ll see you tomorrow...or in a day or two.”

Kai grins at the amicable touch and leans over to ruffle Yaku’s hair. “Thanks...Okaa-san.”

“Not you too!” Yaku whines, but there’s no heat or real complaint, and he watches Kai exchange a few words with the coaches before disappearing out the door. 

—— 

(+1)

The volley cuts off with a sharp whistle as the ball slams home on the other side of the court and Yaku slams into the ground. Pain laces up his ankle and spots dance in front of his eyes as his head hits the ground. He immediately knows he’s injured something, twisted his ankle, killed his knee,  _ something.  _

There’s another tweet of the whistle and he can hear the murmur of the crowd, the scattered footsteps around him, and the low, gravelly voice of Coach Nekomata.

“Are you alright, Morisuke-kun?” Coach Nekomata questions sharply. He can feel the old man’s concerned eyes flick over him, searching for any injuries other than his ankle. “Are you feeling dizzy, nauseous, anything?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Yaku snips. He pushes himself off the ground with a hand, wincing at the prickling ache at his ankle. He roves his gaze around the court and he’s met with stunned and horrified expressions. Bile rises in his throat and his stomach twists, though for reasons completely different than his twisted ankle. “I can still play!” he bursts out quickly. “I can still move, it’s not that serious—”

He moves too quickly and then his back hits the flat surface of the gym floor again. His head almost hits the ground again, if not for the steady hands that catch him from behind.  _ Kai.  _

“Kai—” he starts, struggling to pull himself up again, pushing his friend’s hands away. “I can still play, I can still move, don’t worry about me—”

Pain spikes through his leg and Yaku falls back into Kai, his stomach twisting further. Kai’s hand runs across his short hair, gentle and soothing. “Rest, Yaku. Take a break on this one, and we’ll get the next stage ready for you.”

“But—”

“C’mon, Okaa-san.” Kuroo’s silhouette appears behind Nekomata, who’s hurriedly exchanging words with a medic. “Let  _ us  _ take care of you and everything else this time.”

Yaku rolls his eyes and Kuroo smirks, moving to his other side and together with Kai, wraps the libero’s arms around the shoulders and hoist him up, walking him slowly to the bench. They pass Yaku to Naoi, who smiles kindly at him. 

“You played well, Morisuke-kun. Rest. Yuuki-kun will take care of business out there and I know how determined Tetsurou-kun and Nobuyuki-kun are to take this team to Nationals. You don’t need to worry a thing,” Naoi promises and Yaku spares a look behind him, to where Shibayama jogs out onto the court and the game resumes.

“But Shibayama has never been in a real match before—”

“He’s going to have to be, especially since you and the others are graduating,” Naoi reminds him quietly. “And besides, he’s been shadowing you for the past year and he’s determined to prove himself, especially to his senpais.” The assistant coach looks at him, warmth and kindness in his dark eyes and the gnawing tangle in Yaku’s stomach eases. “Trust in your team. Trust that they’ll take care of things, take care of you, just as you have been doing for the past three years, Morisuke-kun.”

Yaku considers his coach’s words, and then a cheer erupts from the gym behind them, chanting the school’s name, and he smiles, feeling the tangle unravel the rest of the way. “Yeah. Okay.”

—

Yaku’s not sure when he drifts off in the infirmary, but he wakes up to the scent of stir-fried vegetables and he blinks himself to consciousness. The world is bright and blurry and he squints against the bright lights, but the fog eventually clears and there’s a whoop next to him.

“Yaku-san! You’re awake!” Yaku turns his head to find Yamamoto’s bright grin and shining eyes. “How are you feeling?!”

Yaku scrubs at his eyes, sighing as the last of the lingering sleep drifts away. “Better,” he says, before sniffing the air again. “Did someone bring in stir-fried vegetables or something?”

Yamamoto’s smile widens and pushes a takeout box onto Yaku’s lap. The bottom is still warm and Yaku inhales the warm scent happily, before looking back at Yamamoto, head tilted in question. The second-year scratches the back of his neck, almost shyly. “There was a booth selling food and I figured you might want something to eat when you get up.”

Heat pools at Yaku’s toes, filling him up, and his heart warms with happiness. “Thank you for thinking of me, Yamamoto.” 

“Of course!” he beams, just as the door swings open and Shibayama comes in, holding a dark red and black sports bag that Yaku recognizes as his own. Shibayama catches sight of him and he drops the bag, his expression brightening. 

“Yaku-san! You’re awake!” The first year rushes to Yaku’s bedside and Yaku grins at his junior, reaching over to ruffle his hair. 

“Heya, Shibayama. How’d you do?” he asks and a smile blossoms on Shibayama’s face.

“I was  _ so  _ scared at first because I didn’t think I could fill your shoes and then Lev helped me out and then we started communicating and everything started going really well and—!”

“We won, if that’s what you’re asking.” Kuroo leans against the wall at the foot of Yaku’s bed, his smirk in place, but there’s a different sort of feeling to it: instead of the usual smugness it radiates, it’s more pleased and relieved. It’s a nicer look on Kuroo, Yaku decides. Not that he’ll ever tell the bastard that, of course. 

Yaku feels his own smirk edge onto his face. “I was asking Shibayama how his first match went, actually. But thank you for the status update, Kuroo.”

“Told you we’d take care of business out there. We’re gonna go to Nationals.” The glint in Kuroo’s eye turns victorious and challenging. “So you better be ready.”

“Damn right I will be.” 

“Yaku-san!” The infirmary door blows open and the rest of the team files in, Inuoka and Lev first, followed by Kenma and Fukunaga, and Kai last. 

Inuoka and Lev half tackle him in hugs, while Kenma nods at him, a soft smile playing on his lips. Fukunaga places a small flower on his blanket with a demure, “Glad you’re alright.” Kai claps his shoulder and ruffles his hair, whispering, “Thought we almost lost our team Okaa-san.”

Yaku rolls his eyes instinctively, but his heart soars at the sound of the nickname. Somehow, he doesn’t mind it too much anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> what pairing was implied here, you may ask. the answer is yes. 
> 
> \--
> 
> catch me @ [twitter](https://twitter.com/kiroiimye) @ [tumblr](https://kiroiimye.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Take me Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24994498) by [deific](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deific/pseuds/deific)




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